


Cancelled

by SkinSlave



Series: Reimagined Classics [4]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Censorship, Everybody Dies, Existentialism, Homage, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinSlave/pseuds/SkinSlave
Summary: An homage to Ray Bradbury's The Exiles.TW: shamelessly stolen premise, shape-shifting Manson, minimal research done, way too many cameos, fix-it ending.
Series: Reimagined Classics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645744
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	Cancelled

**Author's Note:**

> I only tagged for characters with speaking roles. Several other banned/cancelled/problematíque works and ppl are mentioned.

Dozens of candles threw writhing shapes on the unfinished floor. The three sisters swayed around the cauldron. Periodically, one of them threw in a handful of dried botanicals or a bit of the local wildlife. Their voices were hushed.

"Breath of all who've lived and died  
Wind on which we sisters ride  
Steam of flame and spray of foam  
Fog of cemetery loam  
Blind all of we sisters three  
And show us what we cannot see."

The women leaned over the bubbling soup, inhaled deeply, and emptied their lungs. Their breath became a mass of vapor that grew, overflowing the iron vessel.

While Mary and Sarah continued to chant, the eldest stared in silence. The book in her hands, bound in human skin, watched with one wide eye. She stroked its binding adoringly with a long fingernail.

Out of the cloud that was quickly filling the room, figures materialized. Their movements were stilted, but clear. One sat on the edge of a cot. His chest moved with rapid breaths. Winifred opened her beloved book and took a length of braided straw from between its pages.

"You... man," she snarled, nostrils flaring. "You... snake."

She pulled the braid through her hands. Wherever she touched it, it became soft and scaley. When the transformation was complete, she took the serpent in both hands and jerked them apart. Its spine shattered.

On the other side of the veil, the man fell back onto his cot. He gasped for breath. Another man came to help.

"I knew it." Blood sprayed out of his mouth. "I saw it in my dreams… a woman… a snake…"

"Riley!" the second man shouted, trying to lift his companion's chin. "Keep your airway clear. Riley's coming."

"Doc can't do anything. I'm all torn inside. I can feel it. We can't go all the way. They won't let us."

"Who won't?"

The dying man coughed and took a shuddering breath. He mustered a macabre pink grimace.

"I don't remember."

Riley made it to the bed just as his eyes went blank. She started feeling for a pulse, despite knowing he was gone. She'd grown familiar with death over the 9-week trek. Still, she went through the motions.

The other man, a climber named Jake, left to get the captain. Riley started typing the deceased's details into her notepad. She left the cause of death blank. She'd stopped trying to rationalize.

Jake and the captain returned with a sheet of plastic to wrap the body. It would at least hide the blood from the rest of the ground crew. There was no sense in causing a panic, though it was getting to the point that an explanation would be needed.

"My kingdom for ebola," Riley sighed after Jack had taken his grisly package away. "At least I'd have something to tell them, procedures to stop the spread. I can't advise when they're dying of nothing."

"It wasn't nothing, Judith. It was why we're here."

"We're here to track the source of the radiation. Elias, your  _ theory _ has absolutely no scientific backing. You're lucky they even let you lead this expedition."

"Then do an autopsy!" he said, pointing at the blood spray on the cot. "The man died of something!"

The doc pulled the tent flap closed. She glared at him.

"Are you bringing my credentials into question?"

"No, I-"

"I was hand-picked for this expedition. Besides being the only on-staff medic with caving experience, I am the most experienced in both field and facility work. I worked my butt off to get here, and if you think I'm gonna let some nutjob-"

"Judith!"

Riley suddenly realized what she'd said. Her eyes widened. Seeing her on the edge of panic, the Captain smiled.

"It's ok," he soothed. "I'm sorry. What I meant was… if anyone could see a link, it's you. The fact that there  _ is  _ no link, no pathogen, no cause… It's not proof. But if I'm right, we'll end it."

Winifred waved her hand through the cloud, scattering the figures. Her scowl became a false sweetness. Waving her sisters away, she crossed to the open window.

"You, there!" she called to a shape shuffling through the night. "Elias is nearly to the Mouth! Tell him! Go!"

The shape, which wore a semblance of humanity like a cape, nodded slowly. It changed direction and stood up to its full height. The ridges of its spine trapped the shadows like a starved dog's. The unnamed thing stretched and began to run.

"I would've been faster on my broom, Winnie," Sarah whined, twirling a lock of blonde hair with one finger.

"We could all go!"

Mary came too close, too fast, in her excitement to be included. She bumped into Sarah, who nearly fell into Winifred. The eldest pushed back and rolled her eyes.

"I'm surrounded by idiots."

Disappointed, the girls watched the messenger speeding toward the tower. It loomed, lit from behind by the Mouth, a gaping hole into the world above. Near the top of the tower, a light flickered. It framed the tall man, looking down over his kingdom.

The man at the window could see little more than dapples and streaks, fires and bulbs in the dark. But he knew what they meant. He'd been to each one, spoken to each of the beautiful monsters that lived in the shade of the tower. He united them somehow.

Marilyn Manson, garbage and god.

"Lots of smoke at the Sanderson house."

"They've been busy," a voice behind him said. "You know the films… They can't sit still. The girls have taken out a few of the army already. Most of them have gotten to one, at least… the cenobites, the jedi... They're already doing what they can."

"Good."

Manson turned away from the window. He ran a tattooed hand through his hair. The other accepted a glass from Hirst. They'd become familiar over the years. They might as well have. They shared the gallery was downstairs.

"We're gonna have to go see him." Marilyn grimaced at his own suggestion. "Fuck. I really don't want to."

"We've put it off this long."

Damien wasn't exactly suggesting anything, but he was persuasive. Manson rolled the possibility in his mouth, along with a sip of beautifully dyed absinthe. The alcohol didn't matter anymore, but appearances? Always.

"Nah," he decided. "He deserves to know."

"What, exactly, are we gonna tell him? Do we even have a plan?"

"If they get through the Mouth, we'll move on. Another cave system, Mariana, the moon…"

"Will they just keep coming?"

Marilyn rubbed his face. He was intense with his blue eye and red lips, but as he softened, his eye went hazel and his hair grew several inches. His look betrayed his vulnerability. He hadn't asked for the penthouse in the tower. It just kind of happened. Now he had to give some kind of answer.

"Probably. They have to get their hands in everything, control everything, tame everything. But we're playing the long game. They'll let us back in. They'll nuke each other or something, fall back into the dirt. Then we'll go back, all of us. They'll want us again. They'll love us.

"They used to love us," he said, his voice wavering a little. "Or at least they made room for us. They didn't become more civilized… they just pointed their bloodlust at us… and the parts of themselves that needed us. Fucking assholes."

"I dunno, it is kinda funny," Hirst countered.

A loud knock at the door interrupted them. Manson shook away his anxieties. His hair grew shorter, his tattoos bloomed. He wanted everyone else to stay strong.

He needed them strong. If he was honest, he was proud of their strength. He knew they'd meet the threat ferociously. Hoards of wizards and vampires leaping from banned books, cartoons and caricatures from the cutting room floor, paint and lyrics clawing for their right to exist.

"It's Elias Headsman!" Roth yelled as the door opened. "The Sisters sent a shoggoth… He's leading them. They're almost to the Mouth. What are you doing? Why aren't you doing something?"

"We  _ are _ doing something," Hirst grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "We're going slumming. Come on."

Eli followed down the stairs. Manson brought up the rear.

"Don't worry," the latter said. "There are more of us than there are of them. And we have all of the weapons the unwashed could dream of. What do they have? Pretension."

"And the delete button. Headsman has access to the archive. What if he erases it?"

"If he were going to, he would have already. By the time he realizes he was right, we'll have overrun them. You think they're prepared for what we have waiting? They'll be welcomed by their nightmares and choke on our-"

"Balls!" Hirst laughed.

"I was going to say 'names.'"

"Relax, Mar. You're so dramatic." Damien looked over his shoulder and took in their leader's new appearance - violet lips curving into his chrome grill, false lashes upside down, pale as death. "What is that, Golden Age?"

Manson pouted and muttered, "Lest We Forget. Christ. I thought it was appropriate."

At the bottom of the stairs, spilling out through the door, were Jareth's goblins. They milled and collided, doing as much damage to one another as they hoped to do to the invaders. The men waded through them, more amused than annoyed.

On the other side, a small crowd of anxious characters waited, hoping for comfort from their creators. The Nobodies Tree caressed half a cow. The other half nibbled Johann's fingers. Hirst scratched it behind its ear.

"Everything's going perfectly," Marilyn said to them. "You've got this. Just… We'll be right back."

They headed west, down a slope that became more manicured as they walked. Their destination was a gaudy mansion. It rattled with pop music. Eli channeled his fear into pounding on the door.

It opened a few inches and a strip of green wig and sharp makeup peeked out. Jeffree's smile was as plastic as his fingernails. They awkwardly clutched at a pomeranian, living accessory.

"Eliiiiiiii," he purred. "Hi! How are ya? What do you want?"

"Help. They're coming."

"Help? Oh, honey… you think I'm shook over a few boys in a cave? They're not coming for  _ me _ , baby. Like I belong with you? Bitch, I'm just  _ human _ . And as soon as they realize that, I'm gonna be that girl again."

"Come on," Eli pressed. "You're… interesting. You could meet them at the mouth. They'd love you. And while you're sweet-talking, we could get the drop on them."

"Uhm, no. You're gross. What are you gonna do? Sew them to each other's buttholes?"

"Did you just call me Tom Six?"

"You're just gonna sit here and let them erase everything you are?" Manson's voice made the door open wider.

"Miss Marilyn! Whose lipstick is that? Sickening!"

"Cut the shit. Are you coming or not?"

Star giggled, blew a kiss, and slammed the door. Hirst and Manson started to walk away. Their patience was spent.

"Can we at least have Shane?" Eli shouted. "I know he's in there!"

When no one replied, Roth jogged to catch up to his companions. They walked in silence, carrying uncertainty like a casket. Hirst did a better job of hiding it, but even he was getting nervous.

To steady themselves, they made a point to pass by the waiting army. Thulsa Doom, Anton LaVey, Mickey and Albert and Worf, all sharpening their teeth. All deeply flawed, all summarily executed.

Marsha and Sylvia joined them for a moment, giving updates on the mangaka. Mid-sentence, Marsha's voice broke. She held a hand to her eyes. The rest of the group stopped.

"What's gonna happen when the last of it is gone?" she asked, tears following the contours of her face.

"Don't think like that."

"Shouldn't we? I hear Headsman is with them. When he sees us, he's gonna hit that button, and we'll be like blown-out matches. Just… gone…"

"Real death," Eli whispered.

"Nobody promised us tomorrow," Marsha said. "We only exist here because someone up there knows us. Because someone remembers."

"Life doled out in little measures every time someone presses play or opens a cover, hidden away from everyone like a criminal," Hirst added, finally taking a somber tone. "Is that life? My pieces were destroyed a long time ago. I felt it. It was like my center was hollowed out. Now I'm just pictures of Mother and Child Divided, and so few of them that I ache. How long since any of you have seen Beatrix Potter?"

"A few months," Sylvia said. "She was… weak."

" _ That _ is what scares me. Once I'm gone, I'm gone. But wasting away, feeling them forget…"

"You're not feeling them forget." Marilyn shifted from face to face, giving the impression of a cherub. "The forgetting is numbness. The part you can still feel is what's remembered. And I'll be damned if I just sit by and let them bleach us out of reality. Maybe we'll go out, but not without a fight."

Someone shouted. A long rope fell through the Mouth from the cavern above. It seemed to glide in slow motion, a snake, a portent. Several other lines followed. They were out of moments. 

The sea of figures rushed toward it, snarling and screaming. Their rage echoed. Below the Mouth, they piled on top of one another. A mountain of bodies rose up to meet the rope.

The screaming chilled the climbers' blood. Jack looked back at the captain, eyes wide. Elias held his hand up to stop him. He typed a command into his tablet. After a moment, he waved the team into the hole.

They repelled slowly, looking around for the source of the screams. Three was nothing. The cavern was enormous. Its stalactites cut the last vibrations into slivers. Confused, they touched down.

"I could've sworn I saw movement," Jack said into his radio. "A big dark shape. But I guess it was a cloud of dust. It seems to be settling. Looks almost like ash."

"I'm sure it's nothing important," Elias replied. "Go ahead and scan the chamber. See if you pick up any radiation."

The crew split up, each equipped with a dosimeter for safety. A few started the process of setting up tents. If they didn't find the source, the officers would follow. 

Jack started walking, watching the needle on his geiger counter. In a far corner of the cavern, the needle jumped. A breeze that shouldn't have been able to get in swirled the ash around his feet.

Somewhere, someone plugged in a flash drive and clicked "upload."

  
  



End file.
